This week saw my stay in the office eclipse 100 cumulative days.

So what is it like having reached the century mark milestone?

Well, from one perspective, it’s a lot like the first 99. I still wake up behind my desk, visit the gym daily, and take care that my routines don’t interfere with the general operations of my coworkers. I still entertain questions from friends and family about when I’m going to give in and move to a “real place”. And I still entertain those notions, wondering what exactly will be the tipping point, and if there might be a particular moment of epiphany that pushes me over the edge and back into orthodox housing.

There have been changes, though. If one tracked my every motion from Week One to this past week, one would find definitive changes. Let’s take a look at what those differences are:

1) Physically, I feel incredible.

Because of my daily trips to the gym, I am enjoying the best physical shape since I moved from back east nearly three years ago. This was very much an unintended consequence, as moving into the office in the first place had absolutely nothing to do with my fitness. And initially, I had no blueprint to use the gym for anything more than the round-the-clock showers.

Sometime in February, that all changed. Preparing for my upcoming Grand Canyon trip–I leave tomorrow to hike from one side of the Grand Canyon and back, a superhike of emerging popularity detailed here–I felt obligated to push the limits of my cardio and strength training. Because my workouts leading up to then had consisted of a weekly hike and a few pushups every day, this required extra focus.

That focus paid off. That is, until in early March I decided it’d be a good idea to break in brand new hiking boots on the steep 14-mile trail to nearby Mt. Wilson. Hint: Don’t do this. It’ll destroy your arches. To make a long story short(er), I ended up straining the tendon that runs along my 4th and 5th metatarsal, thereby grounding me from high-impact activity for the better part of the month. Being as the Grand Canyon hike was 4 weeks away, I considered this a minor catastrophe. So I did something I’ve never done: I took to the pool.

Over the past 4 weeks, I have gradually increased intensity of my swimming workouts to include nearly-continuous freestyle swims over a mile in duration. And because of this, the chemistry of my body began to change for the better. I began to crave healthier foods. My arms and chest started to feel bulkier. And my hormones starting working in overdrive. All of this has been fantastic. I feel fantastic. I attribute this, foremost, to the changes brought on by spending more time at the gym. If I had stayed in my apartment, I’d have never  signed up for a membership.

2) My mood has shifted more from rebellious to adaptive.

My physiological changes have begun to fuel my social ambitions. In January, I was cultivating a PNW logger’s beard and dodging requests to attend social events. It’s a tendency to which I am predisposed. And there’s nothing wrong with it. In fact, grooming myself as more of a misanthrope (towards Angelinos, at least) highlighted a often-dormant revolutionary side within me, parts of which I intend on keeping around.

As of late, however, I have found myself more eager to adapt. I’m not any more in love with the image-centric culture here than I was a few months ago, but now I have a hormonal imperative. That is to be attractive. Subconsciously, this has worked its way into my routine progressively more over the past few weeks. Get a haircut. Buy a new pair of jeans. Trim the beard a little. Wash the car. Trim the beard a lot. Lay in the sun, get color. These were all urges motivated by a chemical urge to mate, causing me to subconsciously find ways to adapt to the greater culture. Even though I think that culture is largely full of shit.

3) I stopped being so concerned about whether or not I’ll get caught living here.

Perhaps this is yet another subconscious adaptation–a fight between the hormonal urges of my id to counteract the logical reasoning of my neocortex–but I have lately found myself less concerned with being recognized as a resident here in my office. While I would earlier on in the experiment go to great lengths to conceal my increased presence, waking up at 6:00am to evade potential early arrivals or limiting my trips into and out of the office during weekends so as not to arouse the suspicions of my neighbors, I no longer concern myself with being detected.

Over the past two weekends I have: folded laundry, packed for my trip, walked around in my underwear, and entertained a lady visitor. This is all suspicious behavior, if witnessed by a neighbor. (Like the guy who works next door who spotting me walking in casually on a Saturday morning with a Ralphs bag in tow.)

I attribute this bravado to three things: First off, the hormones. Risky behavior is most exhibited by men in their horniest years. And my recent exercise routine has me feeling better and my hormones flowing more freely. Secondly is routine. I’m accustomed to living here. I know how unlikely it is that someone is going to come nosing in on me, so I refuse to expend my energy trying to avoid it. And thirdly, a small part of me wouldn’t be averse to a change. At this point I have saved a good portion of my annual income, paid off my vehicle a year early, and bolstered my budget for the more important aspects of my everyday (meals and travel). If I’m forced to move into a place sometime soon, it might not be so hard to swallow.

I’d also work a little harder to look for that right lady to entertain. My early romantic successes, as recounted in this diary/blog this fall, have not carried over to present day. While I have hardly been exercising monkish celibacy, I’ve found myself less confident approaching women. I’ve found interactions with many women trail off, starting with a full head of steam but ultimately fizzling and evaporating away. What am I going to tell them? That they’re invited to watch 30 Rock at my mahogany conference table?

So I’m admittedly in a bit of a rough patch with the whole experiment.

The love life has been my biggest downfall as of late. Last fall I learned that I could enjoy relationships with women despite my extreme austerity. Recently, I found that austerity to have affected how I approach women in the first place. Funny what a difference a few months make.

So while joining the Century Club hasn’t brought with it any specific changes, the fact that I’ve been around the office so long is a change within itself.

Christopher McCandless, as made famous by Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild, lived in the Alaska wilderness for 113 days before his tragic and mysterious death by (possibly poisonous plant-induced) starvation. Though hardly a template by which to live one’s life, McCandless’ journey of self-reliance and introspection has enough parallels to note. In his journal, McCandless writes his own eerie entry for his 100th day, foreshadowing his own macabre exit from his chosen experiment:

The preceding entry was written a few weeks after McCandless had scrawled the ironic “HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” note on his copy of Dr. Zhivago. Though I’m hardly employing the scientific method here, I wonder if there is a natural point at which man’s view of his conditional sufferings, even those which are self-inflicted, begins to shift. Just as the employer gives a new hire 90 days to acclimate to the job before offering benefits, might the individual too need a similar period of adjustment for a major life change?

I don’t have the answer to that. But it’s an interesting thought.

Thankfully, on my own 100th day, the stakes are much lower than those of McCandless’. But the sentiment is similar. When the time does come for me to change my situation, I’ll most definitely be ready for it.

– TOH